This quiz contains emotional instability, questionable life choices, and mate-bond-level lust. Proceed only if you're ready to be emotionally dragged. Answer each question and keep track of your letters. Your fate awaits.

Dej In this universe, we don’t do love triangles. We do emotional battlefield tag-teams . And in Tokoloshe , there are two Alpha energies...

Six will throw himself into danger to shield his people. He’ll bleed for his cousin. He’ll risk death for his troop. But when it comes to his own heart? He doesn’t believe anyone will catch him.

In the Tokoloshe world, your Tokoloshe—the inner wild, instinctual self—knows before you do. She’ll rub under your skin. She’ll purr. She’ll growl. She’ll basically roll around like “Ma’am. This is the one. Mark them. Bite them. Climb them.”

The real-life Tokoloshe folklore has always fascinated me. These mysterious creatures that lurk at night, born of dark magic, mischief, and ancestral warning. But the way the stories were told—always from a place of fear, superstition, and silence—I couldn’t help but wonder… what if we rewrote the story?

Every dark fantasy world I write begins with a low, rhythmic, ancient heartbeat. It’s not something I create. It’s something I listen for. Before I write, I dig through myths, rituals, whispered superstitions, the ghosts of forgotten gods.

When I write, lore doesn’t arrive fully formed. It creeps. It waits. It whispers before it roars. The worlds in Tokoloshe and Pisces Family weren’t drawn on a map.

When I write, the goal isn’t just to tell a story; it’s to build a feeling. A world that breathes. A myth that mirrors something real. My dark fantasy novels, Tokoloshe and Pisces Family, didn’t begin with outlines or maps. They began with emotion. With questions. With wonder. Everything else, the structure, the arcs, the twists, came later.